As the lights came up, one thing was undeniable: punk rock ain’t dead, she’s just been sleeping—and Skunk Anansie just shook her awake

Words & photos by Felix Bartlett | March 29, 2025

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Punk rock ain’t dead—she’s just been sleeping. And last night at London’s Roundhouse, Skunk Anansie roared back to life in a blaze of defiance, proving that their fire still burns brighter than ever. The first of two sold-out nights was a masterclass in raw energy, political fury, and unapologetic showmanship, cementing their legacy as one of the most vital bands to emerge from the ’90s.

Before the headliners took the stage, the crowd was treated to the delightfully infectious chaos of So Good, the UK’s brat-pop provocateurs. Dressed in pink ski masks and radiating anarchic charm, the trio of vocalists—backed by their masked guitarist and drummer—delivered a frenetic fusion of punk, hip-hop, and drill. Their lyrics, sharp with political and social commentary, were delivered with a smirk and a middle finger, like a Gen-Z Pussy Riot with a grime twist. Frontwoman Sophie, self-proclaimed as the “female Johnny Rotten,” lived up to the title, snarling through their set with uncontainable energy while sticking the finger up to the fat orange man himself, with a dedication to their appropriately titled track ‘HATE’. By the time they exited, the crowd was buzzing—So Good didn’t just warm up the room; they set it on fire.

Then came the main event. The stage, adorned in jagged spikes (a perfect visual metaphor for a band that’s always been sharp, dangerous, and unapologetic), erupted as Skunk Anansie launched into ‘This Mean War.’ Skin, clad in leather and defiance, was a whirlwind from the first note—her voice soaring, snarling, and slicing through the mix with undiminished power. At 57, she moves with the same feral intensity she had in the ’90s, whether prowling the stage, locking eyes with fans, or diving into the crowd.

The setlist was a perfect balance of old and new. ‘Hedonism’ ignited a deafening singalong, while deeper cuts like ‘Charlie Big Potato’ sent longtime fans into a frenzy. New tracks from their upcoming album The Painful Truth—particularly ‘An Artist is an Artist’ and ‘Animal’—proved Skunk Anansie hasn’t lost their edge, their lyrics still biting into social injustice and personal defiance.

Between songs, Skin’s rallying cries for unity and resistance felt urgent, not rehearsed. “This world wants to divide us,” she growled, “but we’re stronger when we stand together.” It was punk at its most vital—not just music, but a call to arms.

Even the smoking area got its own dose of rebellion, where a branded inflatable punk pig set the tone of the evening as a surreal mascot of anarchy which later made its grand appearance on stage only to be saddled and rode by Anansie herself into the crowd! Outside of the mentioned antics the mosh pits swirled, Skin crowd-surfed during ‘I Can Dream,‘ and the band—Ace, Cass, and Mark—delivered a masterclass in tight, ferocious musicianship.

The encore was a knockout—’Little Baby Swastikkka’ roared with renewed fury, and ‘You’ll Follow Me Down’ closed the night on a haunting, emotional note. As the lights came up, one thing was undeniable: punk rock ain’t dead, she’s just been sleeping—and Skunk Anansie just shook her awake.